Heart Letters

I miss being in love. Or rather, being in tune to the frequency of love. The quiet hum that settles into your body before your mind interferes. When I think about the last time I was in love, I don't remember his face as clearly as I remember how alive I felt. Nothing about me physically changed. I was simply open. I fell in love by accident in Miami, where warm nights linger and time softens. He wasn't the destination. He was the key. And through him, I slipped into my lo

A New Year’s Eve in Sydney becomes a quiet meditation on travel, healing, loneliness, and the woman I’m becoming, told beneath fireworks and the Opera House.

A staycation felt harmless enough. No airports, no chaos. Just a hotel room engineered for peace. For the first few hours, it worked. Gave me enough time to put my guards down. But for the next twenty-six minutes of watching my favorite YouTube channel, the Perennial Garden with Allen and Lars, my world was set ablaze. My demons came with receipts to curse me.

Zurich was supposed to be a quick getaway, but instead, it became a mirror. Between its cobblestone streets, crisp air, and kind strangers, I faced emotions I hadn’t packed for. Somehow, the city knew I needed softness. This isn’t your typical “best things to do in Zurich” list. It’s a story of heartbreak and quiet healing. Because sometimes, even the most luxurious destinations hold space for the most human parts of us.

What started as a quick birthday trip turned into a vibrant celebration of sisterhood, style, and soul. From floral dresses that turned heads in fine Italian restaurants to sunsets that left us speechless, Florence gave us more than beautiful views. It gave us stories and the joy of being fully seen. This is what happens when a sisterhood of bold black women take on Italy. We don’t just visit, we leave a little sparkle behind.

Spain gave me two very different love stories. Barcelona, full of charm and flavor, had me smitten from the start. Madrid? Let’s just say... he missed his shot. From Gaudí’s colorful creations to the warmth of Barcelonans, this journey through Spain is part travel diary, part style statement, and all heart. Come see how a Black woman’s glow shines differently in every city she steps into.

This post isn’t about checking off destinations. It’s about claiming space, owning my glow, and letting the world mirror it back.

I was once the voiceless girl who was praised for silence, taught to survive, not to feel. But in that silence, I was storing power.